As of yet, I have neglected writing about tansu that contain a specific traditional feature, the Bo (locking bar). This has not been due to my lack of interest in this particular feature, more just waiting for a piece that contains multiple aspects that I find worthy of discussing. Well, I finally found one with this stacking clothes chest.  Traditionally, brides took their personal tansu to the new husband’s family home, and I think that’s what we are looking at here.

The bo dansu is one of the oldest styles of tansu, probably due to the fact that it required the least amount of kanagu (hardware) to secure everything. Now in my uneducated opinion, I believe the seller of this piece is right in stating that it is from Yamagata Prefecture. One telltale feature is the warabite handles and the keyaki (zelkova) drawer fronts. I think this would be from around the mid to late Meiji era, because in earlier pieces, the handles were set against single small zagane (escutcheons) rather than full toshi-zagane (backplates) which this piece has. Furthermore, I think we can pinpoint the region of manufacture to the Shonai plain due to the style of the obikanagu (sash hardware) that are on the bo. Obikanagu were more than just decoration, they also added strength to the locking bar as well as help keep the wood from warping. Cool, huh? Well I could go on forever about hardware or how maybe thats bengara stain under the laquer on the sash hardware etc… Let’s just look at the pretty pictures instead.

If I had a zashiki or dei (main entertaining tatami room), this is one piece I would definitely want to put in it. An amazing Sendai tansu with beautiful hardware. This was definitely a showpiece for an affluent merchant to display while he was entertaining guests.

Although I believe this to actually represent the fourth stage of Sendai evolution (late Meiji or early Taisho) due to the fact that is a stacking piece, the floriate button on the lockplate is non existant, meaning that it has a double action lock (urajo), it has mokko style handles which replaced the earlier warabite style, and the lockplates are also embossed and incised with beatiful depictions of what I think are shishi (lion-dogs of protection).

Exhibiting a nice Kijiro laquer finish over a nice reddish stain on the Keyaki wood, this piece definitely presents an impressive display of craftsmanship.

Another nice thing I would like to point out is the corner hardware (which I believe is called herikanagu). Nicely incised, this also points out how with the introduction of sheet metal at the end of the Meiji era, the craftsmen were able to spend more time on the decoration instead of just on fabrication of hardware, therefore adding to the aesthetic qualities of the pieces. And hey, if I was a wealthy merchant that had to hide my wealth due to the Edo era edicts, once the Meiji restoration hit, I would have jumped on all this ornamentation as well.

I saw this tansu on eBay and wanted to talk about it due to the fact that it depicts another regional style perfectly. Tansu production came late to Nihonmatsu (literally, two pine trees) and the area was primarily active in the mid-Meiji era. But what they lacked for in timing, they made up with uniqueness, as they were basically uninfluenced in design by their tansu producing neighbors, Yonezawa, Sendai, and Niigata.

Nihonmatsu tansu are some of the largest clothing chests made, with a typical size of over 43 inches wide and heights sometimes over 47 inches. Always a chest on chest design with the primary woods being Sugi (Japanese Cedar) for the carcass and Keyaki (Japanese Elm) for the drawer faces (this example listed the drawers as being Matsu (pine)). These chests typically had Warabite (bracken hand) type handles with intricate incised toshi-zagane (backplates), this depicted piece also has Sakura (cherry blossom) and Matsu protective plates (I don’t know the Japanese name for this type of handle protective plates, so if any of you out there do, please contact me).

Another distinctive characteristic of the Nihonmatsu tansu was the unique jomae (lockplate) with double kikuza-tegakejo (floriate button) latches as depicted here. One button was a sliding latch (karajo), and the other was a single action lock (omotejo) requiring a key, and could be used separately. This example shows a typical Nihonmatsu sliding lock cover of brass depicting the lucky Daikoku’s mallet (Daikoku is a god that is associated with wealth and agriculture) as well as some brass depictions of koi and a money bag at the center.

Tansu from this region had two types of finishes (nuri). Kijiro, which was a laborious process of multiple layers of clear lacquer (urushi) and polishings over a natural or stained-wood surface (depicted here), or Tame nuri which was an opaque lacquer which would hide the open grained wood and was equally laborious to apply.

One last unique attribute to Nihonmatsu tansu was the atypical use of the carcass wood for the interior drawer faces in the door compartment, as opposed to the usual consistent use of the same wood for all the drawer faces (hidden or not) found on all other types of tansu.

Let’s get back to tansu, shall we? I want to generally talk about kaidan dansu (step chests) also lessor known as hako kaidan (box stairs), verses a critique of a particular piece, just to give an overview of the style. You may already be familiar with these pieces due to their popularity in east/west interior design, but you may not know how they came about. Traditional Japanese homes, Minka, were originally single story structures inhabited by the non-Samurai castes, peasants, merchants, and craftsman (minka now implies to any house from a particular historical era). Anyway, there were edicts as to how fancy your house could be and you were taxed upon the size of your dwelling as well as the fixtures within it. One possible explanation for kaidan dansu is that in these lower caste houses, these chests were used to reach a clandestine living or working area of the house so as not to be taxed for that space (in some regions the attics were used for silk worm cultivation, a highly profitable trade, one which a daimyo (lord of the fief) might want to get his hands on). The chests were usually constructed in two or three pieces for ease of dis-assembly as this would render them less a permanent structure, therefore less likely to be taxed. And if you didnt see them stacked, who would know you’ve got a whole cottage industry hanging out (literally) upstairs. Score one for the downtrodden peasants! Another possible origination of kaidan dansu could be in the more metropolitan areas. Kura (storehouses) were some of the first two story buildings constructed. Used for storage by merchants, these were sturdily made and usually fireproof, an important attribute in towns that were primarily made out of wood and paper. Evidence exists of how kura were used for extended living spaces, and how else were you going to get upstairs, by ladder? Another type of urban dwelling known as machiya (townhouses) also could have benefited from a set of stairs. In areas where space was at a premium, a lot of times the only way to go was up, facilitating the need for some stairs with a handy set of space-saving drawers and cabinets underneath. Whatever way they originated, kaidan dansu have come to be one of the most recognizable and sought after forms of tansu. I always wanted to build a house with one of these pieces as the actual staircase, try getting that one by your local building codes.

Ho Brah. Dis is da kine (sorry, I live in Hawai’i and the vernacular slips in from time to time), but this new piece up for auction is amazing. I’ve only seen pieces like this a few times in person, and that was only in stores (I’ve been to this one) and in clients’ homes, and I’ve always scrutinized them in depth when possible. I wanted to see the joinery, how the doors were put together etc. In a store you are usually left alone to browse under watchful eyes so you can only look so far, but some of my customers actually allowed me to pull drawers to look at the construction, let me take out the doors to see how the tacks were fastened. They saw that I truly appreciated their taste and showed an intelligent understanding of furniture in it’s construction as well as the inherent aesthetic appeal. Needless to say this did wonders for client relations; they knew I understood what they wanted and that I could give it back, even if I was just building a bathroom vanity for them. I’ve gotten off topic, so back to the piece.
This is a huge two section Mizuya-dansu (kitchen cupboard) from the late Meiji era. It’s 8’8″ inches wide, which is at the extreme side of typical sizes (normal was 67″ to 69″) so I’m assuming that whoever had it made originally had a really nice house, it had to be a pretty opulent purchase for the time. That being said, its even more opulent now. Made out of Keyaki (Zelkova), Hinoki (Cypress), and Sugi (Cedar), this tansu is of Hikone regional style, with mizarado type sliding doors (a series of slats tacked to the frame). I totally love this style of door (which is why I always wanted to remove them from my clients cabinets to check out this type of fastening). The only thing I don’t like is the two typical mesh backed “pie safe” doors (but that’s purely personal taste). What I like about these tansu is that it shows the evolution of the Japanese kitchen from simple one pot cooking over the irori (sunken hearth, which also provided all the heat to the house), to where there was an actual dedicated kitchen area, one in which you needed storage for all the sumptuary foods, utensils, dishes, and even cookbooks by this time. Albeit being offered at the exorbitant sum of $23,000, I believe that due to its size, materials, and indicative style, it’s definitely worth further scrutiny. Anybody got 23 grand they can lend me?